


a week's time

by hopelegacy



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Fluff, I promise, M/M, Miscommunication, NCT Dream Ensemble-centric, like zero angst, this is NOREN
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:16:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22927828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopelegacy/pseuds/hopelegacy
Summary: "Did you catch his name? I didn't," Renjun says."Mark Lee," Donghyuck answers confidently.Mark Lee. Well, this Mark Lee guy won't let Renjun concentrate with his adorable eye smile and his ridiculous bone structure. Perhaps he should just avoid him.(He doesn't.)
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Lee Jeno
Comments: 24
Kudos: 253





	a week's time

**Author's Note:**

> warning: i did not read over this so if you see any mistakes feel free to point them out to me! (although please do leave a compliment with it because i am: a weak bitch)
> 
> my only REAL warning is cursing and perhaps an allusion to a past not-great relationship

There’s a new guy in class. 

This isn’t exactly strange—Renjun attends a huge university and students tend to cycle through classes, never quite sure they’ve made the right choice. (He’s done it, too. Trouble deciding on his major for his first two years had him enrolling in and dropping classes like it was nothing.) The professor doesn’t spare a glance as the new student halts in the doorway three minutes before class, scanning over the seats, assessing. As his eyes roam, Renjun makes sure to look away before his eyes come anywhere near him. 

In skinny jeans, a hoodie, and Vans, there shouldn’t be anything about him that catches his attention so quickly. 

But Jesus, he’s handsome. His dark hair falls over his forehead in a way that’s not common in America, and the bridge of his nose is high, just like his cheekbones. His long, slender fingers tap gently on the strap of his backpack as he finally begins to move. 

To Renjun’s already unsurprising disappointment, he moves to nearly the opposite end of the room. 

His professor begins the class and Renjun, to no avail, tries to force the image of the guy from his head. There’s something about him—no. Renjun physically shakes his head and resolutely sets his eyes on the professor, fingers at the ready to take notes. 

_He’s so cute though,_ Renjun’s dumbass gay brain thinks.

 _Shut up,_ Renjun tells it.

*.*.* 

He’s honestly baffled at how quickly this person gets under his skin. His notes are taken, but they’re not nearly as thorough as they usually are. In a sea full of students facing the same way, he has to force himself not to attempt to look back at him, as it would be much too obvious who he’s looking for. 

He doesn’t want to be that guy who feels the need to stare at the new guy. Sure, he’s entered an entire three weeks into the semester, which is nearly unheard of, but he wouldn’t be staring because of his curiosity in that regard. He’s just...cute. 

Is that reason any better? Probably not. 

When the 50-minute lecture is over, he packs his materials and tries to leave as quickly as possible in an attempt to avoid the temptation. He knows he’s overthinking this, but better to be safe than sorry.

*.*.* 

“Have you guys met the new student?” 

Surprisingly, it’s not Renjun who asks it. They’re sitting in the dining hall a few hours later for lunch, and it’s Donghyuck who asks, right hand clutched around his water as if he’s waiting for one of them to answer before he takes a sip. 

“Uh, no,” Chenle answers, and Donghyuck does lift the cup to his lips. “It’s a huge school.” 

“Yeah, I knew the odds were low,” Donghyuck says. “He’s just, like, cute. So.” 

Renjun suddenly has the feeling they’re thinking of the same person, so he says, “Yeah, he is.” 

Donghyuck’s eyebrows raise in surprise, and he leans forward excitedly in his chair. “You’ve seen him?” 

“I think so? He’s in my Architecture Design V class.” 

“Huh. Maybe not the same guy? He was in my Multivariate Statistics class.” 

It was a little odd for upperclassmen to be in such wildly different classes, as they were usually done with their general requirements and simply working on classes related to their majors. Although it wasn’t like statistics and architecture weren’t unrelated, Renjun never had to take Multivariate Statistics to fulfill his major. 

Chenle, finishing off his food, asks, “What did he look like?” 

Donghyuck says, very quickly, “Maybe my height, Asian, kind of skinny? But not like, skinny. Just...lean? That sounds weird.” The three of them do laugh a little at Donghyuck’s struggle, but he tries to continue anyways, “He was wearing a hoodie and jeans today.” 

Honestly, it’s all very similar. Maybe it is the same guy. 

When he looks around, though, with the slightly cold Fall weather, a solid half of the people in the dining hall alone are wearing a sweatshirt and jeans, including Renjun himself. 

“Sounds right,” Renjun says either way. “Did you catch his name? I didn’t.” 

“Mark Lee,” Donghyuck says. 

_Mark._ It doesn’t feel right, really, but who is he to judge a person’s name simply from their face? Or, he guesses, their clothes? There are probably four other Marks at their university wearing a sweatshirt and jeans today. There are 40,000 students; it’s not _that_ unlikely. 

As they finish their meals and set their dishes on the racks labeled _dish return,_ he thinks he might catch a glimpse of the guy he’s thinking of walking past them through the windows, and Renjun can't help but look for the two seconds he’s visible. Donghyuck glances up but right back down at his phone, where he’s texting his dad and Korean. (Or, more accurately, his dad is texting in Korean and Donghyuck is texting back with one-word English responses.) 

Renjun leans in and tosses an arm around Donhyuck as they climb the stairs, and Donghyuck doesn’t turn his phone away. His dad is saying something about Hyuck’s sister. Renjun looks away to where Chenle is smiling down at his phone. 

He can’t help but sigh. For some reason, he can’t get this new guy off his mind, but Chenle and Donghyuck are the same as ever. 

Not that he’s any different. He just feels like...he doesn’t know. He’s missing something? 

After checking his own phone, he finds that he has a message from his mom, too. It's just about his dad’s birthday in a couple weeks, but he feels fond all the same. Chenle slaps him on the back as he texts back, saying he has to get to class. 

Since Donghyuck is done for the day and Renjun still has two hours before he needs to be on south campus for his next class, they both head back to Donghyuck’s shared apartment. They play music and idly sing along while Donghyuck does his math homework and Renjun tries to make some progress on one of his sketches for his structural design class. It’s the same as ever, and it’s nice. The scratch of his soft pencil against paper distracts him, finally, from thoughts of the new guy—Mark, he guesses. He manages to finish and rolls onto his back on Donghyuck’s floor, staring at the textured ceiling as he immerses himself in the song playing. 

Donghyuck doesn’t pay him a glance. 

*.*.* 

Sometimes Renjun thinks it’s the people you want to forget the most that insist on sticking around. When Renjun spots his ex from across the courtyard a few days later, he immediately skitters back onto the concrete behind him, flipping around quickly to hide behind a pillar. 

It’s not that thick of a pillar, but from so far away, Renjun is hoping it’ll conceal his figure enough to keep Luca from recognizing him. As he peers from behind the pillar to see if he’s still there—he can’t seem to find him—a voice from behind him startles him nearly out of his skin. 

“What are you hiding from?” 

Renjun jumps back from the pillar, for a single paranoid second fearing the voice is his ex, having somehow already crossed the giant courtyard without him noticing. This voice is unfamiliar, though, and as Renjun presses a hand to his heart he finally turns around to see who it is. 

He’s never seen this guy before—he’s not too sure why he had expected to. 

He’s taller than Renjun, hair flopping over his forehead and dyed a very flattering pink. 

“God,” Renjun says, still breathless. “Um, just.” He doesn’t usually divulge personal information to strangers, but things have been different the past few days so why not this, too? “My ex.” 

The guy’s face is suddenly wry and commiserating. “Ah. I know the feeling.” 

Renjun thinks, _I wouldn’t be so sure,_ but doesn’t voice it. There’s a moment of silence that’s a beat too long, during which Renjun is almost tempted to peek back around to see if his ex is still there. Just before he twists his body to do so, the guy introduces, “I’m Jaemin.” 

“Jaemin,” Renjun repeats. “Uh, I’m Renjun?” 

“Are you sure?” 

“What?” 

Jaemin laughs, and it’s all sweetness. “You just didn’t sound very confident.” 

Renjun huffs, shaking his head. “Sorry, I’m just nervous.” He finally gives into the temptation to peek, not really expecting to find his ex stomping his way over or anything. But—holy shit, that’s exactly what he finds. 

“Shit,” he says out loud. “Shit, um.” 

“Is that him?” Jaemin asks. “Does he really make you that nervous?” 

There must be something in Renjun’s eyes that portrays a desperate _yes,_ so Jaemin quickly continues, “Come on, let’s go this way. I know a classroom that’s definitely empty.” 

Renjun shakes himself from his frozen state and lets Jaemin guide him quickly away. He knows it will be suspicious to look back, but he does it anyway, and Luca has stopped in his tracks, staring at the two of them. Renjun turns away and keeps following Jaemin, resolute, and doesn’t check to see if Luca keeps following. 

After probably four different turns, Jaemin finally bursts his way through a door into a massive, empty lecture hall. Scratch that—mostly empty. There’s someone sitting in one of the chairs near the front, leaning against the wall on their right and clearly snacking on something. 

The room is so large that it takes Jaemin and him a while to approach him. 

“Hey,” Jaemin says. 

“Hey,” they say back, and when they turn, it’s Mark. 

Renjun’s eyebrows jump to his hairline for a split second. He looks just as handsome as he had three days ago—up close, though, his features are clearer. Before he can get too distracted, Jaemin says, “This is Renjun.” 

The pronunciation is a little off, but at 21 years old he’s more than used to it. Renjun smiles at Mark, sitting down at Jaemin’s prompting. 

“Hi,” Mark says. “You’re in one of my classes, right?” 

He would never have assumed Mark had noticed, especially given that they’ve only had the class once together so far—the class is only Mondays and Fridays, and it's only Thursday. 

“Oh,” he says, clearing his throat. “I think so?” 

“Arch-Design V?” 

“Yeah,” Renjun says. “Wow. Is architecture your major?” 

Mark nods, eyes curling into crescents. “I should hope so, being in Arch-Design V.” His laugh is not full or all that genuine, but it still makes Renjun’s stupid heart flutter. 

Renjun laughs, too. “I guess.” 

“I’m a dance major,” Jaemin says, and although Renjun does know a few dance majors it takes him a little bit by surprise. 

“What’s that like?” 

Jaemin throws his head back into his laugh like he has an inside joke with himself. “A lot more theoretical than you’d think.” 

Renjun thinks back to the ballet classes he took for several years and absolutely believes it. 

*.*.* 

Mark is funny in a dorky sort of way, which somehow fits better than anything else Renjun could have imagined. His eyes don’t crinkle _every_ time he smiles, but they do every time he smiles and clearly means it. His legs are long and slender where they stretch out in front of him, or fold under him, or press against his torso with his feet on his chair. 

Renjun learns that Mark and Jaemin are both from only a few hours away, and while Jaemin had been attending their university the entire time, Mark just transferred this semester from a college in their hometown. They’ve known each other since they were eight years old—when Mark moved from Korea, apparently. 

These things explain why they look so close—not that Renjun thinks he necessarily has a chance with Mark, but he had still found a small, irrational little feeling of sadness at the thought that Mark was already taken. They’re like brothers, though. While they didn’t say it in actual words, they made it clear with their easy banter and unabashed platonic teasing of each other. 

When Renjun finds that he needs to be in class in fifteen minutes, all three of them rise at once. 

“It was nice meeting you,” Jaemin says. 

“You too,” Renjun says. “Uh, and thanks for the help. You know, with getting here.” 

Jaemin smiles gently. “It was no problem. Here, what’s your Instagram?” 

Jaemin passes his phone to Renjun, and Renjun looks up his username to request to follow it. Mark does the same. 

He leaves as Mark and Jaemin are picking up their things. When goes to accept their requests on Instagram, he sees that Mark’s DN is “jenjen,” which he doesn’t really understand. Then again, when he accepts Jaemin’s request, his DN is “nana,” which he doesn’t understand, either. Maybe he’ll get it once he gets to know them more. 

_If_ he gets to know them more. 

He hopes he does. 

He smiles to himself, slipping his phone his pocket. 

*.*.* 

Renjun keeps an idle eye on his much-too-active groupchat from his math class as he sits down early for class the next morning. They’re the students from his math class, some of which he’s known for a few years but none of which he knows well. As always, they’re talking about nothing to do with math. He’s not sure how the conversation really got here. 

**Ryan**  
_what kind of evidence could u possibly have to back up that tall people live longer_

**Mariana**  
_if tall ppl rlly lived longer wouldn’t everyone just be tall_  
_u know bc of natural selection_

**Kelly**  
_ok ok back off it’s just something i read_

**Ryan**  
_but where tho i wanna read that shit_

**Aoife**  
_yeah b as a tall bitch i'd like to know_

**Kelly**  
_are ur browsers not working or sth just look it up_  
_i read it like two weeks ago i'd just be on google too_

**Mariana**  
_i'm too lazy ill just take ur word for it_

**Kelly**  
_ok miss ~natural selection~ NOW ull take my word for it_

**Renjun**  
_i remember some journal published that tall ppl live longer but idk what evidence they had for it_

**Aoife**  
_omg ur alive_

**Kelly**  
_if renjun says i'm right i'm right period_

Renjun’s not sure where she got that idea, but he huffs at it anyways as he places his phone face down on the fold-out desk in front of him. As he pulls his laptop out, he catches Mark walk into the classroom, wearing the same Vans as the last two times he saw him, but instead of a sweatshirt he’s wearing an oversized button-down that’s half tucked in. It’s so fucking cute that he has to immediately look away, opening up his laptop and typing out his password. 

He’s not sure, after yesterday, why it startles him so much when Mark drops his bag down in front of the seat directly to his right. Despite himself, he feels his eyebrows rising as he glances up at him, fingers pausing on his keyboard. Mark smiles at him, and it’s close-lipped but his eyes still crease slightly at the corners as they form into crescents. 

“Hi,” Renjun says, heart fucking fluttering so badly he’s briefly afraid something’s physically wrong with him. 

“Hi,” Mark repeats. He turns to sit down and does the same as Renjun, pulling out his laptop and opening it. Renjun doesn’t notice he’s staring until Mark goes to type in his four-number password and looks over at him, smirking just a little. 

Renjun immediately tears his eyes away, a flush creeping down his neck. 

“I realized yesterday that I never caught your name,” Mark says a few moments later, body twisting slightly in his direction. 

“Oh—it’s Renjun.” He tries not to take it personally that Mark had never gone on Instagram to accept his request, as he knows his profile says _Renjun Huang_ in its entirety. He’s a grown ass adult. An unaccepted request doesn’t mean Mark doesn’t like him. 

For politeness’ sake, he says, “And yours is?” 

Just as Mark opens his mouth, the professor says, “Alright, class, let’s get started for today,” and Mark closes his mouth apologetically and turns to his laptop, fingers poised to type. 

Renjun turns forward, too. Good thing he already knows Mark’s name. 

*.*.* 

Immediately after the lecture is over, Mark turns to him and says, “Do you want to work on the assignment together this weekend? My roommate is going to be staying at a friend’s place, so we could do it at mine?” 

Renjun’s stomach jumps straight up his spine into his throat—his nervous gay ass could never have been that direct so soon. 

_Is this a date??!!_ Renjun’s dumbass gay brain thinks.

 _No! It’s fucking homework!_ Renjun thinks back to it, his own way of telling it to stop jumping to dumb gay conclusions.

He suddenly feels insecure about his sketching skills. And his math skills. Are Mark’s really good and he’ll think Renjun’s incompetent because he can’t draw straight lines? But he’ll have his rulers with him, so it’s not like he’s about to freehand his sketches. What if Mark is ten times more creative than Renjun and his design subsequently looks ten times better? And what if, because Mark is there, he suddenly won’t be able to do basic geometry? Would Mark reach out to help or look at him in disdain? 

He can’t imagine _disdain_ being an emotion Mark is entirely capable of. He is, quite possibly (despite only four days of knowing him and less than a day of having spoken to him), one of the kindest people Renjun has ever met. 

He thinks back on the story Jaemin had told Renjun about Mark breaking his arm at nine years old trying to chase down a dog someone had lost, and reminds himself that he had let his brain go too far with its worries. If Mark didn’t really want him there, why would he ask? 

“Uh.” He takes a moment to be courteous and try to remember if he’s made any plans for the weekend. He comes up blank and hopes it’s not just because he’s flustered. “Yeah, sure. Just DM me? I think I’m free most of the weekend.” 

Mark smiles, brighter and with teeth, and Renjun can’t help but mirror it. 

“Great, I’ll DM you. Uh—have a good one?” 

“Yeah, um, you too.” 

Mark slings his backpack over his right shoulder, the tucked-in side of his button-down pulling slightly out as he does so. Renjun waits to pick up his things so he doesn’t have to awkwardly follow him directly out of the classroom after they’ve already ended their conversation. The moment he passes through the door, though, he’s bombarded by an eager Chenle. 

“Jisung is staying at my place this weekend!” he says excitedly, and there’s a smile on his face much wider and happier than Chenle normally lets himself show. 

“What! Why?” 

Chenle’s legs won’t stay still and he bounces slightly on his toes. “He says it’s so we can work on our psych project together.” 

Renjun raises an eyebrow. “He _says_?” 

“I’ve known him forever,” Chenle says. He takes both sides of his jacket and wraps them a little tighter around himself as they walk outside. “He asked me yesterday if I wanted to work on the project with him this weekend and I was like, _Saturday or Sunday?_ And he was like, _Both?_ And I was like, _It’s only a two-page project_ and he just gave me this _look_ that was like, _Stop asking questions and just say yes_. So I said yes and now we’re spending the whole weekend together.” 

This is actually a pretty huge step forward for Chenle and Jisung. Chenle, who’s always flirting but unsure how to make it clear he’s not just joking around, and Jisung, who is somehow the only person on earth that doesn’t know he has feelings for Chenle. 

Including Chenle himself. 

“Aw, he just wants to spend time with you,” Renjun says. 

“I know.” Chenle smiles to himself, looking smug. “If only he’d say it in actual words.” 

They both look over at each other, wry. 

“Maybe someday,” Renjun says, patting Chenle on the shoulder. 

Chenle huffs to himself. “ _Definitely_ someday. But before we graduate college? Who knows.”

*.*.*

When he wakes the next morning, the sun is once again shining directly into his eyes. It takes him nearly ten minutes to bring himself to open them, and the first thing he does is check his phone because he’s weak and gay and hoping for a DM from Mark.

He’s not _too_ disappointed seeing that there isn’t one, as it’s only 8:45 in the morning. But still.

And shit, 8:45 in the morning on a Saturday is much too early, so he turns around in his bed so the sun is shining onto the back of his head and goes straight back to sleep. An hour later, he’s stretching in his bed, his right shoulder and hip popping as though he’s much older than he is. When he finally brings himself to sit up, he drags a hand through his hair and down over his face before actually getting up out of bed.

He showers and brushes his teeth before he goes back into his room to check his phone, which has one of those Instagram notifications that’s like ____ has posted after a while_. He immediately swipes left to ignore it, frustrated at the jump his heart gave at the sight of the little pink icon.

As he trudges to the kitchen to make something for breakfast, he catches one of his roommates with his door wide open, clearly attempting to pack clothes. His long ass legs are on top of his bed and his torso his curled around the foot, halfway underneath the bed as he searches for something.

“You good?” Renjun asks. He looks as though he’s about to fall.

Lucas startles, banging his head against _something_ as he wrenches himself out from underneath the bed, elbows coming to rest on the floor and face completely red. He has a pair of leather cuffs in his right hand.

Renjun smiles wryly at him. “You going to Jungwoo’s this weekend?”

Lucas looks down, eyes widening. He slides the cuffs right back underneath the bed and lies, “I was just looking for my pants, but I think Jungwoo might have stolen them.”

Honestly, they could share. Jungwoo and Lucas are by far the tallest couple he knows. But Renjun has definitely caught glimpses of Jungwoo and Lucas doing much worse than simply holding a pair of leather cuffs, so Renjun smirks at Lucas and says, “Have fun. Text me when you’re planning on getting home tomorrow.”

Having already recovered from being upside down for so long, Lucas’s face is suddenly red again. He says a _will do_ and plunges himself arm-first back under the bed. Before he walks away, Renjun only sees a split-second of Lucas’s legs beginning to slide off before he hears a loud thump and a moan indicating that he just fell.

He’s halfway through making himself a quick breakfast when he finally gets a notification from Mark.

**jenjen** **  
** _is today or tomorrow good for you?_

Renjun is so bare minimum at this point that the courtesy of asking makes him feel warm. He has to physically hold himself back from immediately replying _today_.

**Renjun Huang**  
_which is better for u? i’m free both_

He waits a couple of minutes before he checks his phone again, finishing up making his breakfast and setting himself down on the floor in front of the couch so he can eat over the coffee table properly.

**jenjen** **  
** _today then?_ _  
_ _i do have plans in the afternoon tmrw and i wouldn’t want to make you come in the morning_

 **Renjun Huang** **  
** _today works, maybe around 2 or 3?_

The urge to text again _or whenever_ is much too strong so he physically forces himself to put his hands in his lap and wait. He doesn’t want to make Mark make all the decisions.

**jenjen** **  
** _2:30 then?_

 **Renjun Huang** **  
** _yeah i’ll see u then_ _  
_ _i’ll text for ur address later_

 **jenjen** **  
** _np see you then!_

Renjun presses his face to the cool top of the coffee table and stays there for a couple minutes. Can his heart stop fluttering at the stupidest shit? That exclamation point sent it racing.

A few minutes later, Lucas finally emerges from his room with his backpack and a packed bag in tow. Each of them rests in the crook of one finger in his left hand while he texts quickly with just his right thumb. Renjun’s fingers are cramping just looking at it.

“Drive safe,” he feels the need to say.

“Always,” Lucas replies. As if to confirm this, he shoves his phone in his pocket and smiles brightly. “I’ll see you tomorrow!”

“Yeah,” Renjun replies, but Lucas is practically already out the door.

It’s endearing. He kind of wants a romance like Lucas and Jungwoo’s.

He really tries not to let himself have hope for something like it to happen at Mark’s today.

*.*.*

Standing outside Mark’s front door, Renjun cannot bring himself to knock. He fixes his hair more in those ninety seconds than he’s sure he ever has in his life, and he doesn’t know why—he knows for a fact that it looks the same as it did before, if not worse.

Eventually, he convinces himself he’s making too big a deal out of it, takes a deep breath, and knocks three times just a little louder than he intended.

Mark opens the door almost immediately, looking sweet and somehow a little different from usual—is it just morning puffiness? No, it’s 2:33.

Renjun makes a realization that has his soul ascending from his body—Mark usually wears makeup and Renjun hadn't noticed until seeing him without it. And fuck, he’s so beautiful without it, too. Part of him feels lucky he gets to see Mark like this.

“Welcome,” Mark says, smiling and scrunching his nose and _holy shit Renjun has never been more gay in his entire life_ —

“Thanks,” Renjun manages. He steps inside, toes off his shoes, and follows Mark into the living area. He’s grateful to be able to set down his giant sketchbook—his arms are almost not long enough to hold it, fingers just barely hooking underneath when he tries to carry it under his arm.

“Do you want something to drink?” Mark asks, heading on socked feet to the kitchen.

“Just water?” Renjun says. After feeling comfortable with where he’s put his backpack and sketchpad down, he turns and examines the area. It’s neat and clean, so freshly cleaned that it’s pretty clear Mark just cleaned the area before he came over.

“Got it,” Mark says from the kitchen. Renjun hears the sound of a fridge opening.

Renjun walks idly over to a wall. There are a couple pictures that are quite obviously of a younger Mark, many of them with another boy that looks just a little older than him. There are a few of him now, with the same boy from earlier, looking close enough to be brothers. And, on the far right of one mounted shelf, there’s—

“You know Jisung?”

There’s a pause in the sound of water pouring.

“Jisung Park?” Mark asks.

Renjun stares at the photo of Jisung, Mark, and the other guy. Jisung looks as endearingly uncomfortable as ever, throwing a peace sign with one hand and a thumbs-up with the other. He’s right in between the other two, much taller than both of them but still managing to look much younger.

“Yeah,” Renjun says. “He’s dating my best friend.”

“Jisung is dating?” Mark sounds surprised, but not completely.

“Well, no,” Renjun admits. “But he wants to be.”

Mark laughs quite loudly at that. “I could definitely tell that.”

Mark treads back in with two cups of water in hand, and the one he gives to Renjun is rainbow colored. Renjun halts in his tracks.

_Is this a hint._

_No, I’m gay and I’m looking too much into this._

_But is this a hint?_

Mark smiles innocently at him, setting his own cup down and heading to what Renjun presumes is his room. As Renjun sits and pulls his things toward him, he catches a glimpse of a paper certificate lying face-up on the bottom shelf next to their small TV.

It says _1st place,_ but more importantly it’s clearly for dancing and it says the name _Mark Lee_ in large, bold letters directly in the center. There are other papers stacked underneath it, and Renjun wonders if they’re other awards Mark has gotten for dancing.

“You dance?” Renjun asks when Mark shows up again, struggling to hold his sketchpad much less than Renjun had been.

Mark lays it down on the floor and opens it, and Renjun can see his nearly immaculate previous sketches as he flips past them to a blank page. Surprisingly, Renjun feels quite confident as he does the same.

“Yeah, I did.” Mark is smiling. “My brother and I met Jisung at our dance studio while we were all still in high school. I quit last year to focus on my major, though.”

There’s a fondness in Mark’s eyes that Renjun knows all too well. It’s hard to give up something you love, even if it’s objectively for the better.

There’s a pause, and then Mark says, “Would you like to choose the music?”

Renjun smiles, shaking his head. “It’s your house. You can go ahead and play whatever.”

Mark’s lips press together. “I’ll just put on a YouTube lo-fi playlist and we can change it later if we want.”

“Okay,” Renjun says. He doesn’t often listen to lo-fi but it's definitely not the type of music to be too distracting while they’re trying to get work done, which he’s down with.

Maybe an hour later, after some idle chatter and mostly clicks from calculators and soft pencils scratching against their sketchbooks, Renjun has a lot more done than he usually can make himself do at once. Mark looks up at the same time. Renjun tries not to feel too insecure as he watches Mark’s eyes scan over his sketch.

“Your sketch is amazing,” Mark says eventually.

Flushing, Renjun says, “Thank you. Yours are...actually perfect.”

Mark shakes his head, scrunching his nose in protest. Renjun wants to touch it.

Obviously, he doesn’t. But it’s kind of a close thing.

“Just take the compliment,” Renjun says wryly.

“Coming from _you_ ,” Mark says.

Renjun squints, offended. “I _always_ take compliments, and that’s because I’m desperate.”

“Desperate?” Mark laughs. “Maybe I’ll just have to keep complimenting you. Do you have a daily quota you need to hit?”

Renjun pouts at him. Mark pouts back.

Renjun breaks first. “Fine, three.”

“That’s all?”

“That’s not enough?”

“But I have so much to say!”

Renjun shakes his head, rolling his eyes.

Mark gives a long exhale, adjusting his glasses on his nose. “Do you want to check each other’s work?”

A spike of fear shoots through Renjun at the thought of Mark catching him in a mistake, but that’s the entire point and he repeatedly reminds himself of this as he hands over the paper he did all of his math on. He takes Mark’s and sets it down on top of his journal, picking up his own pencil in preparation. As he does so, he glances up and catches Mark’s eye.

They’re soft and warm and crinkled at the edges. Renjun’s eyes flicker down to Mark’s lips against his will, also soft and perfect and parted ever so slightly. When he looks back up, Mark’s cheeks are just a little redder than before. They both tear their eyes away at the same time.

 _That was not heterosexual behavior,_ Renjun’s dumbass gay brain thinks. And for once, Renjun has to agree with it.

*.*.*

Renjun is glad they ended up working together on Saturday because he needs the entirety of Sunday to recover.

He gushes on Facetime to Chenle— _gushes,_ like a lovestruck _idiot,_ because that’s what he _is._ Or, at least, that’s what Chenle says to him nearly verbatim. He tells him about the amount of times he and Mark teased each other, how they could sit in silence and it wasn’t awkward, how Mark was so gentle when he corrected some of Renjun’s math and how Renjun tried to be gentle in return, how Mark made kind-of dinner for them when they were completely finished but Renjun definitely is a better cook than him, but that’s okay because he appreciates the effort more than the food itself, how softly Mark held his wrist when they stood together at Mark’s front door—

“ _Please_ tell me you kissed,” Chenle says, cutting Renjun off from the most long-winded rant of his life and allowing him to finally take a breath.

Renjun scrunches his face. “We just met like six days ago.”

Chenle’s jaw quite literally drops. “Do you _hear_ yourself? You talk to me only about Mark for half an hour and _then_ you say you don’t want to kiss him because you’ve only known him for six days?”

“...I never said I don’t _want_ to.”

Chenle’s palm hits his face with an audible slap. “You’re...a fool.”

“He knows Jisung!” Renjun blurts, desperate to change the subject.

Thankfully, it works. “What, he does? How?”

“He said they used to dance together, now they live in the same apartment.”

“Huh. Jisung did move out of the dorms recently but he never told me where.”

“He didn’t?”

Chenle shakes his head. “I offered to help him move but he said he already had people to help. I guess Mark was one of them.”

“Yeah,” Renjun says. “And his older brother.”

“ _Jisung’s_ older brother? He’s been in Korea for two years!”

“No, no, Mark’s older brother.”

“Ah.” Chenle suddenly looks a little grim. “Have you spoken to Donghyuck recently?”

“Not since Friday, why?”

Chenle’s eyes wander off the screen for a moment and he shares a _look_ with (he presumes) Jisung. When he looks back, he says, “It kind of seems like he likes Mark, too? You might want to...clear that up with each other. Like...sooner rather than later.”

Something squeezes Renjun’s chest when he hears that. “Donghyuck…”

“Listen, I need to go,” Chenle says suddenly. “But call me if you need anything.”

“Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I will.”

“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Renjun repeats. There’s a beat, and then the call hangs up, and Renjun’s ears sort of feel like they’re ringing.

Not wanting to put this off, the moment Renjun manages to clear his head he texts Donghyuck.

**renjeon** **  
** _can we talk? tomorrow?_

Nerves spike through his chest when the little dots indicating Donghyuck’s reply appear almost immediately.

**sunflower** **  
** _ofc, what’s this about_

 **renjeon** **  
** _nothing big, just need to talk_

 **sunflower** **  
** _i’m always open_ _  
_ _after lunch?_

 **renjeon** **  
** _yeah that works_

 **sunflower** **  
** _btw i’m bringing a friend to lunch tmrw so don’t be surprised_

 **renjeon** **  
** _see u guys tomorrow_

Donghyuck reacts to his text with a little thumbs up. It seems that he’s oblivious to what’s going on, just as Renjun would have been if Chenle hadn't mentioned it.

He briefly considers inviting Mark to lunch, but dismisses the idea, afraid it would be a little too on-the-nose. But then again, they did agree to talk _after_ lunch, so it’s not like they would be discussing him while he’s there.

If he gathers enough courage tomorrow during class to do it, he will.

Renjun frowns to himself, hoping all of this is a misunderstanding. Maybe they’re talking about two different Mark Lees? Maybe Donghyuck doesn’t like Mark at all and Chenle had just picked up on the wrong signals?

And what if this isn’t a misunderstanding? Will he have to give up his feelings for Mark because Donghyuck’s are clearly stronger? Or the other way around? Would they both have to tell Mark no in order to preserve their friendship? That is, assuming Mark even likes either of them in the first place.

But...the way Mark acted yesterday…

Renjun scrubs a hand down his face. Not wanting to think about it, he grabs two bags of chips from the pantry, plops himself down on his bed, opens his laptop, and restarts one of his favorite TV shows from the beginning. He thinks it’s typical, avoiding thinking of his feelings until they resolve on their own, but tries to give himself a little more credit than that. He _did_ text Donghyuck so that they could talk about it before it blew out of proportion.

He shakes his head and focuses his eyes on his laptop screen and doesn’t stop until Lucas pops his head around his door.

“I’m home,” he says. He looks so content and Renjun is worrying so much that it almost immediately makes tears well up in his eyes. He looks away as quickly as possible and says back, “Welcome.”

There’s silence, and then a couple minutes later Lucas has climbed into his bed on top of the covers, two bowls of ice cream in tow.

“I’ll watch with you,” he says, because he’s the best roommate ever despite the sexcapades Renjun has accidentally witnessed.

Renjun forces his arms out from under his comforter, takes the freezing bowl in his hands, and whispers, “Thanks.”

Lucas reaches around him to bring the laptop between them. Just before he presses play, he says, “Any time.”

And Lucas is such a good friend that he instantly believes him.

*.*.*

He has a little trouble dragging himself out of bed and to class the next day, but the excitement of seeing Mark in class outweighs the dread of what may come of his conversation with Donghyuck.

And yeah, the moment he sees him, a weight feels like it’s been lifted off his entire body.

He’s wearing makeup again, just a little, and it looks unbearably good on him. Mark’s smile when he sees him, too, is bright, and his eyes form into those crescents Renjun has already become so fond of. When he sits down, he doesn’t hesitate to lean in closer to Renjun, nearly touching, just to make a little conversation before class starts. They don’t talk about much of anything, and yet Renjun’s heart is jumping out of his chest.

Jesus, they’ve only known the other existed for a week. How can he already be this gone?

He spends the entirety of class thinking about it.

The moment it’s over, he turns to Mark—much closer than he would have last week as well—and says, “Do you have plans for lunch?” And immediately after realizing that’s a lead-on question, he asks without waiting for a response, “Do you want to join my friends and I for lunch?”

Mark purses his lips. “What time? I have class until 12:30.”

“Oh, we usually meet at one in the dining hall. If that’s good? You don’t have—”

“I’d love to,” Mark interrupts before he can start backtracking. “I’ll see you then.”

Renjun can practically _feel_ the stars in his eyes as he repeats, “See you then.”

“Can I—” Mark abruptly stops, swallowing. “Are your friends going to be there?”

“Yeah.”

“Ah, I’ll bring Jaemin, then? We usually have lunch together at that time, too.”

“Sure—uh, no problem.”

They’ve both already risen from their seats and slung their backpacks over their shoulders. Just as Renjun as about to leave, he’s halted by Mark’s gentle hand on his shoulder. When he turns to look, Mark looks so sweet in the lowlight of the still-running projector.

“Thank you for inviting me,” Mark says genuinely. He looks like he’s really trying to get across that he means it, and Renjun believes him with no doubt. “And I had fun this weekend. We should do it again sometime.”

“Just for this, or?”

Mark laughs softly. “No. We could just…”

It’s vague, but Renjun gets it. “Yeah. We could.”

“Okay.” Mark’s smile is brighter now. “I’ll see you at lunch.”

Renjun nods slowly as Mark walks away. After taking a second to gather himself, he catches Professor Suh still standing there in the corner of his eye. When he looks over, there’s a rather prominent grin on his face.

“You’re welcome,” Professor Suh says.

“I—” Renjun is so flustered that he walks out of the room without saying anything else.

*.*.*

He’s the first to arrive in the dining hall, and he paces around looking at the food options (which are the same as ever), struggling in his nervousness to decide what to eat. He settles on ordering a sandwich and has to wait a couple minutes for it to be toasted before he can sit back down. Just a few moments later, Chenle arrives, and with Jisung in tow.

He barely has two seconds to greet them before Mark is showing up with Jaemin, and everyone is setting their things down so they can go grab their own food. When they come back, Mark has two glasses of water, and only then does Renjun realize he had forgotten to get something to drink.

“Thank you,” Renjun says, way too touched by a glass of iced water in a shitty hard-plastic school cafeteria cup.

Mark simply smiles as he sits, and when his hair falls into his eyes leaning forward he reaches up to rake it back, and it falls back so _perfectly_ around his face that he almost looks—

“I love your shirt today,” Mark says, and when Renjun looks down to see he’s wearing a sweatshirt, Mark corrects, “I mean the color.”

It’s a soft lilac purple and Renjun likes the color, too, or else he wouldn’t have bought it. But hearing it from Mark means something entirely different to him.

“You have a nice sense of style,” Renjun admits. Although Mark isn’t wearing anything too special today, he still always manages to look nice. He may be biased, though—or maybe it’s just Mark himself that makes every outfit look so good.

Mark waves him off, fork in hand. “If my friend Yeeun never gave me any advice, I would never have figured out how to dress without looking like a dad.”

Renjun wants to object to Mark’s lack of faith in himself, but before he can say anything Mark jumps in suddenly, “You’ve looked a little nervous today, is everything okay?”

There’s a worried look on Mark’s face that makes Renjun melt inside. In all honesty, fifteen seconds of speaking to Mark again today had made him almost completely forget the conversatIon he needs to have with Donghyuck. And seeing Mark look at Renjun this way, he can’t help but worry for a fleeting moment whether he looks at Donghyuck like this, too. Or maybe Donghyuck really does feel this way about Mark.

They’ve been staring at each other for a few moments, and just as Renjun is about to reply, something out of the corner of Mark’s eye distracts him.

“Oh, hey,” Mark says. He sits up a little straighter, seeming surprised, and Renjun turns to take a sip of water to clear his throat of its sudden knot.

Donghyuck has walked into the dining hall with his friend—who looks a little familiar, but Renjun can’t really place it.

“Hey guys,” Donghyuck says. “This is Mark Lee.”

He gestures over at his friend to his right, and he’s a little taller than Donghyuck with rounded eyebrows and broader shoulders and a bit of an undercut and Renjun chokes on his water and has to grossly spit it back out into his cup.

He’s wheezing and coughing and Mark—the Mark next to him—is patting his back gently, and he thinks, a little insanely, _Are they both named Mark Lee????_

Donghyuck and his Mark Lee are frozen, still standing in front of the table where they were before Renjun started losing his fucking mind.

Renjun pushes the cup of water away from him and the pain in his throat manages to go away enough for him to croak incredulously, “ _Y_ _ou’re_ Mark Lee?”

Mark Lee and Donghyuck look confused. The Mark next to him looks a little confused, too, and has a hand resting softly on Renjun’s left shoulder.

“Yeah,” Donghyuck and his friend _and_ Renjun’s Mark _and_ Jisung say together.

“But—” Renjun coughs once more, holding a hand to his chest. He points to the Mark next to him. “ _This_ is Mark Lee?”

The Mark next to him turns his head abruptly, startled. “What?”

“Are you—you’re—Mark? Mark Lee…”

And Renjun abruptly realizes where he recognizes Mark Lee from. He’s in all of those pictures with _his_ Mark in his apartment, a chronicle of the two of them growing up together. Mark Lee must be the older brother he mentioned, but if he’s Mark Lee, then what the hell?

“You thought I was Mark this whole time?” Mark— _not Mark_ —asks. There’s a grin creeping up his face, and thank god he doesn’t even look mad about it. There’s a mirth in his eyes like Renjun has yet to witness.

“I—yes!” And suddenly, sweet, _sweet_ relief crawls its way joyfully throughout Renjun’s entire body. He leans back in his chair, looks to the heavens, and says, “Thank fucking God.”

Chenle, to his right, looks almost as relieved as he feels.

“Mark’s my brother,” thankfully-not-Mark says. The real Mark sits down across the table from them with Donghyuck, forgoing food to hear the rest of this. “I’m Jeno Lee.”

Jeno— _Jenjen_ — _Jeno fucking Lee, Mark Lee’s younger brother_.

“I’m sorry!” Renjun blurts. “I just—I never—I assumed you were Mark!”

Jeno looks like he wants to crack up laughing, lips pressed together and eyebrows crinkled upwards and eyes smiling. “Why?”

Jaemin, looking confused, says, “I never introduced you? _You_ never introduced you?”

Renjun wants to laugh and cry and kiss Jeno’s pretty face. _Jeno. Jeno Lee._

He already knows he’s never going to live this down.

*.*.*

After lunch, Renjun and Donghyuck are waiting just outside of the dining hall for their friends to finish either clearing their dishes or using the restroom.

“You said you wanted to talk? Do you still want to head to my apartment after this?”

“Oh.” In his relief, Renjun had pretty much forgotten. “It’s actually just—I was afraid we liked the same person.”

Donghyuck’s face morphs into incredulity in no time flat. “I do _not_ like Mark.”

Renjun thinks back to the starry eyes Donghyuck gave Mark every time he spoke and the way it would make Mark’s ears go red when he noticed.

“Sure,” Renjun says, attempting to make it very evident with his face that he doesn’t believe Donghyuck for a second.

Donghyuck squints at him, but the moment Mark says, “Ready?” from behind him, Donghyuck’s face lights back up. Renjun rolls his eyes.

“You like me?” Jeno says, and he scares the shit out of Renjun.

He had _not_ meant to reveal this this early. _They literally met a week ago._

Jeno eyes are their usual crescents. Renjun stares at him, speechless.

“Do you like coffee?” Jeno asks.

“Not especially,” Renjun says, truthfully.

“Me neither,” Jeno says. “Do you want to go to a coffee shop with me this weekend anyway?”

Renjun swallows. “Like.”

“Yeah, like a date.”

Something like happiness bubbles up inside him. “Yeah,” he says. He gathers his courage and reaches forward, intertwining his slightly smaller finger within Jeno’s. _Jeno’s._

“I can’t wait,” Jeno says. He squeezes Renjun’s hand just a little and pulls him closer in the process. They turn together and follow behind the rest of their friends, hand in hand and arm-to-arm. His hand feels perfect inside Jeno’s.

 _I should’ve done this sooner,_ his dumbass gay brain thinks.

 _It’s literally been a week,_ he reminds it.

*.*.*

“You know, the paper I gave you to look over had my name at the top of it.”

“Well _excuse me_ for not noticing it.”

“Also...there are plenty of other rewards with my name on it hung up in our apartment.”

“Jeno, I swear to God—”

“ _And_ my name on Instagram says Jenjen. Like...that’s a pretty big hint.”

“Then why does Jaemin’s profile say _Nana_!”

“His name is Jaemin _Na,_ oh my god—”

“Would you _please_ just _let me live_?”

**Author's Note:**

> so all of the characters kind of have backstories that I didn't end up writing about, like renjun's ex and markno's childhood etc etc. maybe someday i'll write more about them? lol
> 
> (also i once was friends with someone for like two months without knowing their name until i finally saw them write it down so this is not as implausible as it may seem)


End file.
